Breakdown's Revenge
by ThreeInOne
Summary: Takes place after 'The Human Factor'. You didn't really think Breakdown wasn't going to get Silas for abusing his body, did you? 'You don't have MECH to protect you anymore, Si. And you're all mine now.'


**((I just saw 'The Human Factor' and I have to say, I loved the ending, the way Megatron and Knock Out stuck it to Silas-Breakdown, and the idea in general. Then this idea snuck it's way into my head. I figured Breakdown might not appreciate Silas stealing his body and his life. There is no intended yaoi but it could be seen as that from Breakdown's angle if you squint. **

**WARNING!: This story has graphic descriptive human death. Do not read if that's not your thing.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Transformers Prime. This is from Breakdown's POV. I don't own him.))**

Dying didn't hurt. I mean, no more than any other battle wound. The moment I felt the razor sharp edge of a cold steel spider leg slash into my chest, I knew I was gone. And to think I'd actually liked Airachnid! It was a little unnerving, in truth; I was easily expecting to find myself in the Pit for all I'd done, being a Decepticon and all. However, I didn't. The familiar darkened hallways of the Nemesis threw me for a loop. What I saw cemented the knowledge that I was indeed long since passed.

After all, why would I struggle against two Vehicons who were dragging me down the hallway, Knock Out following with his trademark smirk? I'd been the Aston Martin's partner for vorns and I could tell that he was terrified, angered by the half-dead abomination my body had become. And by the screams the mech was letting out, it was painfully evident whose new residence my body was.

So I followed them. Knock Out strapped the thing to the table in the medbay, dismissed the troops. Silas was spitting curses, howling out that he could be useful, he needed to be preserved. Knock Out was ignoring him, dentas grit and a little bit of coolant welling up in the corners of his optics as he powered up his saw, before turning to Silas with a sneer. At that moment I couldn't stand it, to see my best friend kill me. I found out quickly a new power I possessed: Knock Out's optics dimmed and he keeled over into unconsciousness, leaving Silas to stare at him.

"Hi there, Si," I sidestepped my partner, standing over him protectively with my ectoplasm arms across my chest. "Been a while."

Apparentally he couldn't see me but he could hear me, because his bad optic adjusted to try and pick me out. "Where are you? Who are you? Did you do that?"

"Here's a clue, little man," I bent in lower, focusing on making only my face visible. "Boo." He visibly recoiled in fear, which caused me to smile.

"You," his voice quivered. "You're dead."

"Really?" my voice was thick with sarcasm. "I never would've guessed that. Nice new body you're sporting, by the way. Looks an awful lot like mine."

"What do you want?" Silas cut right to the chase.

I narrowed my optics. "What do I want? _What do I want? _What do you think I want?" Only a little more focus was required to pick up a spare saw, which whirred to life with little problems. "I want my fragging body back so my fragging friend can have a proper fragging funeral instead of dealing with some stupid fragging human who thinks that he's the smartest fragging being in the fragging universe!" I brought the saw down without mercy, the blade cutting straight into Silas's chest. He flinched and nearly cried out at the pain but contained it. "You see, the way I see it Si is that you and your organization aren't smart enough to fully transfer a human mind into a Cybertronian body." The saw's edges were covered in a thin layer of Energon as they bit farther, piercing the edge of the spark chamber. With a screech it curved up into a turn, starting on the next few cuts. "Which means your human body would have to be somewhere inside of my body." I was halfway done with the block I was carving out. "And I figure that that's your Achilles heel, am I right?" The chest armor gave way with little problems and I pulled it free, setting it on the table. The badly marred fleshy gaping at me made me grin even wider. "Peekaboo. I see you." One ghostly hand wrapped around his chest and throat.

"No," Silas gagged. "Please...don't."

"Why?" I demanded, the saw blade whizzing as it sliced into a few of the wires crossing his body. "Give me one good reason. After all, you were going to dissect me. Break me down, if you will. Why shouldn't I do the same for you, now that the tables are turned?" Half of his body was literally fused to the metal wiring and it took some work to cut the metal straight out, ignoring Silas's screams. "You don't have MECH to protect you anymore, Si. And you're all mine now."

I yanked his body out of the armor, blood and Energon mixing together and seeping down to coat the floor and onto Knock Out's armor. I raised the saw, the edges coming closer and closer to his exposed neck. His eyes were wide with fear. Pure, unadultered fear. I loved it.

"Easy prey," I muttered. And he screamed.

**~.~.~.~.~.**

Knock Out woke up with a groan, putting a hand to his helm. He couldn't quite remember what had happened, except that he'd been taking the Silas-Breakdown into his lab for dissection. Then it had all went black.

He onlined his optics, taking notice of the red and blue coated saw on the table, the lifeless shell with a few wires lying on it. He made the mistake of standing up, audios registering the wet crunch and the feeling of something against his pede. He raised it and took several steps back in horror.

Lying there was what could best be described as a mangle of twisted limbs and flesh. Bones were visible, internal organs cut into bits, flesh and metal strips now ribbons. An eye stared up at him with pieces of scalp and hair sprinkled all about, the skull glistening, preserved for him. A block of metal lay near it, what had been the lower part of Silas's body, untouched.

"By Primus," Knock Out gaped. "What did this to him?" He took notice of the trail of Energon and blood on the floor...wait. It wasn't a trail. It was streaks, letters. Writing.

**Miss me, KO? **it read, a mixture of light blue and dark red, written crudely. A cold air surrounded Knock Out, a rough weight on his shoulder, almost as if a hand were touching him.

"Breakdown?" he managed audibly. And, though there was no audible or visible response, he could've sworn the room got colder.

**((Yeah, Breakdown's cruel. I always loved the dream team of Breakdown and Knock Out and I'm sad the former had to die. I really hate Airachnid now.))**


End file.
